Of the Fantastic
by Dance Elle Dance
Summary: "Here's a fun game," she says, eyes bright, "I'm going to kidnap you, and Thor shall come and try to save you!"..."Sif, he doesn't even know we're playing a game." LokiSif, Thor, kidfic, oneshot


_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Thor._

_**Summary: "Here's a fun game," she says, eyes bright, "I'm going to kidnap you, and Thor shall come and try to save you!"…"Sif, he doesn't even know we're playing a game." LokiSif, Thor, kidfic, oneshot**_

_This was going to be short, and then it took on a life of its own as I wrote it. It's pretty crack-y and OOC but I had so much fun writing it so I just don't care haha. I just really like the idea of kid!Loki and kid!Sif and just their possible interactions, as well as the addition of kid!Thor. Anyway, this is just a fun little fic and I really wanted to write it. Thanks so much for reading!_

* * *

**Of the Fantastic**

* * *

"I find myself bored, Loki."

Sif twirls on the edge of the balcony, a small child with skinny legs and arms, bony and uncomely, with a tangle of raven hair and darker eyes. She turns and gives her current companion a smile that could cut glass effortlessly.

"I have books…" he offers quietly.

"But I want _adventure_!" she retorts, fondly exasperated, spreading her hands out from her as if to offer him the entire world.

"You can immerse yourself in any world you wish," Loki replies, "in a book."

Sif smiles at him and leaps down from the balcony, her feet making a rather loud thudding sound on the floor. "Perhaps you are right, but still, I want to leave here and have an adventure."

"Go _outside _and read," Loki provides dryly.

"You are amusing," she says, "but no."

Loki stares at her for a moment, watching the way her black hair swings as she starts twirling again. Really, for someone who wants to be a warrior, she's quite girly. He mentions this to her, and she bristles.

"One day, you little mischief maker, I will be the best warrior you've ever seen!" she exclaims, stopping her twirling and looking at him, her fists on her nonexistent hips and her eyebrows drawn together in a scowl. "You just wait."

Loki feels his lips upturn in a smirk. "I suppose I shall be waiting a long time."

"You suppose wrong," she replies, biting but playful.

Loki moves and leans back against the wall as Sif waltzes around his room. It is rather odd, having her in here, just the two of them without Thor or any of their other playmates. He watches as she moves toward the bookshelf, curious despite herself, and he feels a brief stint of amusement that he has been able to influence her thoughts so.

_Some warrior, _he thinks, not unkindly.

Her small fingers move across the spines of the books, all neatly arranged in a row on the shelf. Loki's mother would have it no other way - and, if Loki were to admit to himself, neither would he.

Sif moves away from the books, looking begrudgingly interested in them, and then turned to Loki, her eyes set hard in her face. "Can we _please_ go outside?"

"We were waiting for Thor, don't you remember?" Loki does not like the thought of leaving his brother behind. Does not think that his brother likes the notion of being left, either.

"Thor can find us," she says, as if it were the most obvious thing. "I think he might like that sort of chase."

"How does he even know - "

"Oh!" Sif exclaims, clapping her small hands together in glee. "I've an idea!"

"What _now - _"

"Here's a fun game," she says, eyes bright, "I'm going to kidnap you, and Thor shall come and try to save you!"

"Sif, he doesn't even know we're playing a game."

"That makes it fun!" she protests.

"But how are we going to play a game when one of the participants doesn't know about it?"

"I'll leave a ransom note!" Sif is very excited now, her eyes sparkling even brighter than before. "Ooh, it'll be just like a real kidnapping."

"Why am I the one being kidnap - "

"No sassing to the kidnapper!"

"I wasn't sassing - "

"No interrupting, either!"

"But you - "

"Shush, fool!"

Loki sighs exasperatedly and runs a hand over his hair before watching as Sif prances over to Loki's bookshelf. She reaches for a book, opens it, and then tears out the first page she sees.

"_Sif_!" Loki shouts as if she had plunged a dagger into his chest. "What are you _doing_?"

"There's no words on this page, Loki - " she stops herself mid-sentence and puts on a gruffer voice. "Shut up, wench! Prisoners aren't allowed questions!"

Reeling over the fact that she had just called him a wench, Loki presses a hand to his forehead as Sif reaches into Thor's overflowing, messy toy box and miraculously salvages a few unbroken colored pencils. She sits rather ungracefully on the floor and begins to doodle a ransom note that looks more like a perturbed bird got a hold of the pencil and decided to write a novel.

After a few minutes, Sif picks the paper up off the floor and looks at it, squinting, and then grins. She finds something to adhere it to the bedroom door and then looks at her handiwork with that increasingly broad smile of hers. "There. Come on, wench."

"I don't believe you're using that word correctly, Sif."

"You do not correct your kidnapper, wench."

Sif grabs his wrist and they pass the door swiftly, leaving the room but not before Loki catches a glimpse of the supposed "ransom note".

_Thor Odinson! I would say fear not, but that would be a lie! You must fear me! I have what you value most - your brother! Only if you defeat me in a duel shall you see him again. Ha ha ha! - Sif._

"That is the worst ransom note I've ever seen."

"Hush! Now, off to the garden! I need to secure my base."

"_Base_? There's a _base _now?"

"Hmm, I suppose _lair_ is more appropriate. And evil-sounding." Sif grins like a shark as she steers Loki around the back to his mother's garden. Greenery is everywhere, flowers bloom on almost every surface, and Loki fights a sneeze.

They end up making the base inside a bush that is bursting with the white petals of Frigga's favorite flower. Loki is made to move the branches to the side so that there is a way to view the outside, then he is shoved inside the shrub. He flops to the ground inside the brush, cutting his elbows on some random twig, and stares up at her through the brambles, indignation in his eyes.

"My father would not approve of the way you are treating your prisoners."

Sif smirks as if he had just given her the world on a platter.

She turns to him and says, "Now cry for your brother!"

"…_no_."

Sif wrinkles her nose and then flicks Loki's. He winces back further into the bush and disturbs a nest of a bird. It pecks him and then flies off. "Why couldn't _I _be the kidnapper?"

"Because Thor is the hero and you two are brothers," Sif says matter-of-factly. "You two can never be on opposite sides."

Loki straightens himself up inside the bush. He tries to leave the confines of his leafy cage, but Sif won't let him.

"Now, stop breaking character," she whispers, as if conspiring. Then, "You better pray Thor gets here soon!" An evil laugh follows.

Loki does, for more reasons than one.

* * *

Thor pads to his room, bare feet making no sound on the floor as he walks. His belly full, he has no thought in his head other than, _I can't wait for supper, tonight. _There had been something he was supposed to do earlier today, something that had been important, but he had forgotten it the minute he smelled the delicious aroma of cooking food wafting from the kitchen. The cook, having a soft spot for Thor (who didn't?) let him have a few bits here and there before supper started, and before the blonde knew it, he had stuffed himself to point of bursting.

He reaches upward to open the door when the note catches his eye. He sees the name before he actually reads what the note has to say and feels guilt at having kept them waiting for so long. Then he manages to make out the rest of the letter - _Sif's mother needs to practice her handwriting with her - _and gapes at what it says.

With the letter clenched tightly in his little fist, Thor races off down the hall, nearly bumping into several servants along the way, determination and the thrill of a new game in his chest.

* * *

"_Woe, oh woe, is me. Such treachery, I cannot see, oh my oh me."_

Loki, having adopted the age-old technique of jailbirds singing to pass the time, plays with the leaves that make up his cage.

"_My love is the sea, oh where are we, I cannot see, please free me."_

Sif turns around abruptly, annoyance etched onto her girlish features. She crosses her arms. "None of that makes any _sense_!"

"_My name is Lo-ki, I love the sea, I cannot see, let us be!"_

This has been going on for at least twenty minutes, and Sif can barely stand it. She grasps her hair with thin fingers and squeezes her eyes shut, as if that could help disperse the madness.

"_Oh dear me, can it be, my brother come to save me?"_

"NO!" Sif explodes. "No! He's not here! He hasn't been here! He's _never coming_!"

"…I'm here."

Sif and Loki both jolt in attention. Looking like a beacon of gold in the already sunny garden, Thor stands in front of them, a smug look on his chubby face as he waves the crinkled note in front of them.

"Someone ask for a duel?"

"_Finally_," Loki drawls, fidgeting.

Sif, suddenly looking less worse-for-wear than she had when Loki was singing his sea-shanty-jailhouse-rock-combo, stands determinedly in front of the golden boy, her hands busy refastening her ponytail. "I did!"

"And if I win, you return my brother to me?"

"Yes! If you win, the wench shall return to you," Sif says, nodding in a sage-like manner in a particularly non-sage-like position.

"I don't think you're using that term correctly, Sif."

"No one tells the villain what term they can or cannot use!"

And with that, she charges him.

The fight is short - and pathetic, no less - but that doesn't seem to matter to either of them. Thor rips a branch off of one of the nearby trees and Sif does the same. The two start dueling with them as if they were truly swords. Loki watches on, enraptured by it despite himself.

"Take that, you heathen!" Sif stabs at Thor with her makeshift sword.

"Never!" Thor shouts dramatically. "I shall protect Loki's honor!"

"Since when was my honor in question!"

Thor angles himself toward Loki's makeshift prison. "Well, Sif _did _call you a wench."

"Sif is insane, brother!"

"_Insane_?" Sif shouts, and then cackles in a way that would suggest that yes, she is quite mentally unstable. She stabs blindly with her stick-sword, her rage distracting her. "I'll show you _insane_!"

Thor dodges and then lunges forward, his own stick-sword gripped tightly in his hand. "I'll show you a _victor_!" He stabs Sif in the gut.

Sif looks heartbroken and grasps her midsection, her eyes wide in her face. "You've…vanquished me…"

And she falls over, dead.

Thor drops his stick-sword and turns to Loki, whose eyes are so very green that they match the bush color-for-color. He extends a hand to him, and Loki takes it tentatively, pulling himself out of the bushes. Thor takes care to remove some of the leaves that had gathered in Loki's hair during his imprisonment, and he smiles at him. "You're freed, Loki!"

"I'm _filled _with _joy._" Loki rolls his eyes and brushes off his hair, as if Thor didn't do a good enough job ridding him of all the debris in the first place.

Thor and Loki look over to Sif's small body, fallen on the grass, her black hair spread out around her, her tongue lolling out of her mouth in a comical manner.

Loki looks at Thor, and a question comes out of his mouth before he can stop it. "What do we do now?"

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he regrets them, because Sif shoots up, imaginative excitement written across her face. "Let's go down to the lake! We can pretend to be _rogues of the sea_! Thor can be captain, I can be second-in-command, and Loki can be the sea-wench!"

Thor pumps a fist in excitement; Loki slaps his face in embarrassment.

And so, the cycle continues.

* * *

_**End.**_


End file.
